Your white whispers
call me to crawl
into the cave
between your breasts.
I seethe with the hum
of your voice:
I am a trembling fig,
plucked from the branch,
waiting for you
to slice me open –
You will eat me,
then shit me out.
I will be the stink
you try not to smell
as his lips lick yours.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment